Silent Invasion
by ZombiexBunniez
Summary: Ellouise Thomas is determined to restore the mangled opera house where her father, a wealthy business tycoon, fell madly in love with her mother, a principal ballerina. As she explores the abandoned opera house she stumbles upon more than just memories as she comes toe to toe with the infamous Opera Ghost


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from G. Leroux's work or the subsequent musicals. Ellouise will be the only character I claim, despite my own addition of multiple secondary OC's throughout.

Monsieur Bernard grunted as he pushed hard against one of the many decrepit side doors of the decaying opera house. As it gave he uttered a "harumph" and stepped through the doorway, shoving an enormous key ring into his pocket. Once he had thoroughly dusted off his jacket with his hands he turned and offered his hand to a fine young woman who entered after him, ignoring him completely as she did.

"You would think the opera has been closed for centuries. I can hardly believe it has only been five years since the great disaster." Eloise Thomas looked about herself at the gloomy, musty conditions of what appeared to have been a workshop. Here grand sets were designed and constructed, but the large room now lay in disrepair, with tools strewn about where they had been left. She wore a fashionable hat that was pinned delicately into her dark curls with a gold and pearl pin. Her dress was from one of the most prestigious Couturiers in all of Paris, but she paid it little heed as she stepped through cobwebs and must. Her pale blue eyes could hardly move quickly enough as she devoured every detail of the room in front of her.

Monsieur Bernard coughed to regain the young woman's attention as he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose.

"The owners disappeared after the disaster, as you know, never to be heard from again. The care of the Opera Populaire then fell into the hands of the city, and it has been left to decay. I cannot fathom your desire to purchase such a ruin, but it is not my place to instruct a lady in her thoughts."

Eloise could see the obvious discomfort on the older gentleman's face as he ushered her through to a passage that lead through the back stage. The depth and complexity of the city that dwelled behind the curtains surpassed even her own lavish imagination. It looked as though the theatre's occupants had just stepped out and could return at any moment to dust off the tools of their trade.

"Most of the structure remains intact, and the statues for which it was famous, though in dire need of cleaning, are largely unharmed." Monsieur Bernard walked quickly, and his eyes shifted from side to side as though he expected a spectre to appear at any moment. His wrinkled hand clutched a rosary that dangled from the pocket of his coat.

"Please slow down, there is so much to see." Elouise called as she struggled to keep up, her skirts slapping against her legs as she rushed to follow. She wanted to take in every detail as she saw it, but there was simply too much.

"I will not, Madame." Bernard huffed. "You shall have to content yourself with this pace. I dare not linger long in this tomb. I fear our presence will disturb its many ghosts." Elouise could see beads of perspiration breaking out on the portly man's face. It had taken a considerable amount of money to convince Monsieur Bernard to guide her through the Opera Garnier. He had once worked as a cellist in the famous orchestra, but now he was nothing more than a hired hand for the Commissioner . As they wound quickly through the belly of the beast Eloise began to feel her own trepidation. The beauty of the opera house was haunting. It felt as though every shadowy corridor they passed looked back at them. A series of twists and turns led them through a labyrinth of rooms and corridors, each more interesting than the last.

All at once they arrived upon the stage. The grand theatre opened up into a cavernous space that had once been a place of magic. The remains of hundreds of charred, seats stood up like an army of iron skeletons and the once great dome of the opera house was now replaced by a gaping hole. Water from the rainy morning cascaded from the roof down onto the stage, and the quiet murmur of pigeons nesting drifted through the thick air. Incomplete cherubs danced on what remained of the ceilings, barely visible through the soot and mold that had taken its dominion over the opera house.

"I will not linger long, Madame. Have you satisfied your curiosity?" Monsieur Bernard was fidgeting uncomfortably, causing the beads of his rosary to crackle against each other.

Elouise could hardly breathe. The opera house was just as grand and whimsical as her mother had told her it would be, even in its hagared state. She could imagine her mother gracefully dancing across the stage, making the music come to life as she performed with the ballet troupe. In her mind, she could see it in its golden age, graced with splendor and song. Her eyes drifted over the rows of balconies before falling on the infamous box number five.

"I shall take it, Monsieur Bernard, tell the Commissioner to name his price." She smiled as she spoke, but her voice was firm. Monsieur Bernard gasped and shook his head.

"Madame you cannot be serious! I only agreed to escort you so that you would see the folly of your misguided plans!" Bernard was silenced by youthful blue eyes that held the authority of the aristocracy. He had not grown used to her tempestial moods. She had seemed so young only moments before, but her look had hardened into one of decisiveness. The gently curling wisps of dark hair, and faintly flushed cheeks did nothing to soften her gaze.

"Do not make me repeat myself, Monsieur. I'm am not a sheep in your flock. You're attempt to dissuade me has only set my mind." She turned away from him and clasped her hands behind her back. "I will offer 300,000 francs if the paperwork is brought to my suite at L'hotel de Paris by ten o'clock tomorrow morning. It is far more than the structure is worth in this condition, however I am feeling generous." Monsieur Bernard gaped at the young woman, who spoke with the tenacity of a seasoned business man. "You may escort me out now, Monsieur Bernard. I have many preparations to make before this evening is over." With that she turned from the main theatre and began to walk towards the passage from which they had come. As she turned she saw a shadow slip from sight. No doubt it was a trick of the light streaming through the ceiling. Monsieur Bernard hurried to lead her way and grumbled as he walked.

"If your mind is set I will hardly bother to argue. It is sheer madness, however, I shall give the Commissioner your offer." Elouise stopped to take one last glance at the stage before turning and fading into the shadows of the passage.

Erik prowled through the shadows, stalking the pair of intruders who dared enter his domain of anguish. It was so easy, dispatching the miscreants who sought to steal, loot, and defile the carcass of his once great theatre. In the five years he had spent in infernal solitude, never once had a woman ventured so far. Bernard was familiar to him. A cellist who held promise, but drank the steadiness of his fingers into intoxicated tremors. Even now he could hear Bernard's choppy, trembling notes echoing through the silent hall like his own personal ghost. Erik had been prepared to end Bernard, lasoo drawn tight, ready to strike like a viper in the darkness, but the sight of the woman Bernard escorted stilled his hand.

For a fleeting instant he believed the delusion that Christine had returned to him, so like were they in appearance. This woman, this invader, however, carried herself with unabashed pride, gliding through the maze of his home with crystal eyes wide with wonder. There was no true resemblance to his demure, innocent angel, and he hated the woman for it. Rage welled within him. What business could a finely dressed lady have traipsing through cobwebs and mouldering decay? He had killed women before, many times; it should have been effortless to slip the lassoo around her pale neck and leave it ravaged by the purple, serpentine bruise that would remain on her pretty little corpse. He would kill her, he told himself, but first he would observe her. Something in the way she surveyed his kingdom intrigued him. There was a familiar flicker of wonder that he was not quite prepared to snuff out.

Deftly he stalked them through the shadows. His skilled steps shrouded him in silence as he wove through catwalks and corridors, more skilled than any seasoned stage hand. When he surmised their destination he slipped through a hidden passage and hurried up to his throne, box number five. There he would observe from afar, and when he had his fill he would string them both up like horrid marionettes and drag them to the bowels of the catacombs.

The little woman burst onto the stage, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. She could almost be Christine, rehearsing the arias that he had lovingly bestowed upon her, and he was overcome with an excruciating ache in his chest. Erik looked on as she drank in the theatre, consuming it with those sapphires she had claimed as eyes. They were nothing like the welcoming chocolate, eyes of his angel. Madness gripped at the edge of his sanity and whispered to him. He should kill them, punish them for daring to trespass upon his solitude. But one simple utterance silenced the sinister voice that had taken residence in his crazed mind.

"I shall take it, Monsieur Bernard, tell the Commissioner to name his price." The girl wore an indescribable smile. She almost embodied the Monalisa, wearing a smile that spoke of untold wisdom and secrecy. For an instant she looked towards box five where he stood, and all though he knew he was well out of sight, it seemed for a moment that she was staring into his soul.

Bernard blathered on,clearly growing more frightened by the moment. Erik took a sick form of comfort from Bernard's fear. Fear was something he could control masterfully, but the woman's smile did not waver.

Erik watched as she reduced Bernard to the size of a flea, lashing him expertly with her sharp tongue. He was so enthralled by the display of her control that he nearly missed the gravity of her proposal.

She would purchase _his_ opera house. If there had been any spell it was shattered. Erik slipped out of box number five and into the shadows of the backstage passages. He followed the woman, one Madame Thomas, more closely than her own shadow. He kept a meer breath between them, poising time and time again to slip has lassoo around her neck and reduce her to nothing but flesh and bone. Again and again he resolved to render her last breath from her supple pink lips but found himself inexplicably unable to strike. Finally she exited from whence she came and he realized that he could not bring himself to snuff out the first bit of wonder that had slipped into his midnight kingdom, puncturing the darkness with the most peculiar light. What were her plans for his precious opera house? He must learn her intentions, one way or another. For now he would languish in his darkness, and observe his new opponent's next move.

The carriage ride to L'Hotel De Paris was agonizingly slow. Elouise could hardly contain herself. In her mind's eye she could see the winding passageways. She had only seen a small portion of what the Opera House held beneath its shroud. So many plans would need to be made. The structure had been badly damaged, but from what she had seen of the outside, there were still portions that were largely intact. She had feared the worst, but the Opera House had simply lain dormant, like a piano waiting for skilled hands to play it once more and coax music from it's ivory keys.

The swaying of her carriage began to slow and she peeked out of the curtains to see L'Hotel De Paris so very near. It was one of the more opulent hotels in Paris, but it was not a room at Versailles. Once the carriage came to a complete stop she burst out of the door the moment Jacques, her loyal butler, opened it for her. The tall, greying man offered her his hand as she descended the carriage steps and she took it gladly. Jacques was a refined Frenchman, with an aquiline nose and a primly manicured moustache. Soft blue eyes bellied his sharp wit and large stature. There was no man in the world that Elouise trusted more than Jacques.

"Good evening, Mademoiselle. I trust your excursion was fruitful." He spoke, taking long fluid strides to keep pace with his energetic, young employer.

"It most certainly was. I have much to do. Have you found the man Monsieur Dubois recommended?" Elouise hurried through the lobby pausing momentarily to turn to Jacques expectantly. They stood under a crystal chandelier in the center of the green carpeted foyer.

"Monsieur Renaut sends his apologies that he could not come immediately. He will call upon you in one hour's time if you will receive him, Mademoiselle." Jacques watched as a broad grin spread across her face.

"You old devil, I knew I could count on you!" She gave his chest a playful pat with her gloved hand and spun on here heel. "I'll see him in my office." She started up the stairway, gently placing her hand on the cherry, monkey tail bannister.

"As you please, Mademoiselle. Shall I have the staff prepare your supper?" Jacques spoke with the slightest smile.

"No, I can hardly be bothered to eat when there is so much to do!" With that she rushed up the stairs to the third floor suite. She did not give a damn if her rush seemed unladylike.

Elouise changed from her dirtied blue gown into one of emerald green damask that hugged her stomach with a high waistline and encased her slender arms to the wrist. Black parisian lace trimmed her gown, and a black pearl pin punctuated the beautiful twist of curls at the nape of her neck. She sat behind a large, mahogany desk that was littered with pieces of parchment. A single photograph of her parents graced the surface of the desk, directly next to her quill and inkpot. Her thin, pale fingers ghosted across the lines of a document she had received from the city archives, a pair of full moon spectacles perched upon her nose. She had endured a great deal of hissed words and angry glances when she requested the blueprints of La Opera Garnier. Though she hardly allowed it to deter her.

Her father had raised her with a thick skin after her mother died of scarlet fever when she was a girl. Monsieur Thomas, to the outrage of the elite, had raised his daughter with every freedom he would have bestowed upon a son. No activity or education had been forbidden to her. She was her father's pride and joy, and had grown into a young woman with a will of iron and a sharp intellect. It would take more than an angry archivist to dissuade her.

A soft knock sounded at the open door of her office where a nervous young man stood gripping his hat. He was dressed in rough cloth that matched his sun weathered skin and rough hands. Copper hair stuck up in unruly curls, plastered in some spots where the brim of his hat had rested.

"You sent for me, Madame?" He asked with a respectful nod of his head. Elouise' lips spread into a dazzling grin as she stood from her chair and strode over to the man, her hand outstretched.

"Monsieur Renaut, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." She halted any attempt to kiss her hand by shaking his firmly and releasing it quickly. "I have been told you are the man to speak to about large works of construction." She turned and ushered for him to sit in the elegant chair that sat before her desk as she returned to her seat. The man fumbled to answer as he followed her instructions. He had never sat in such a fine chair, he hoped he would not dirty the white satin upholstery and displease her.

"Y-yes Madame, I am well able to run projects on a large scale, although I cannot say I have been graced with patronage as grand as yours." He fiddled with the brim of his hat awkwardly, as he looked about the room at its fine furnishings. Renaut could hardly bring himself to look at the renowned Madame Thomas in the eye. It was rumored that she was wealthier than king midas himself, and the quality of her quarters left no doubt in his mind that the rumor was true.

"There is no need for flattery, Monsieur. I can assume you would know a great many skilled workman. I am prepared to pay you and anyone who agrees to assist in my project handsomely. However, I must be frank with you. Superstitions may make your hunt for workmen difficult."

Renaut struggled to keep up as the lady before him got immediately to the point. He didn't think that fine ladies were so abrupt.

"Why is that, Madame?" He looked her fully in the eye now. The workman had an honest look to his features, something that Elouise greatly admired in a man.

"I intend to rebuild La Opera Garnier." Elouise watched as he blinked repeatedly and sat back in his chair, thrumming his fingers on his knee. She could see him clench his jaw as he thought. He was clearly flustered but doing his best not to show it.

"That will indeed make my job harder, but there isn't a workman in the city who will deny the chance at a full belly and a bottle of wine. Work has been scarce and my men have mouths to feed." Renaut scratched his beard thoughtfully.

"Make whatever promises you must and I will ensure that they are kept. I intend to begin construction before the end of the week. I am prepared to pay you a personal salary of twenty thousand francs per month. Whatever the project requires will be supplied to you. You will work with Jacques to arrange orders and settle accounts." Elouise watched as Renaut's jaw went slack and his eyes bulged at her offer. It was more than generous, she knew, but her father had taught her that the quickest way to a man's loyalty was through his pocket. "Will you accept my offer?"

Monsieur Renaut swallowed loudly, as though his mouth had suddenly become dry. "I could not deny such a generous offer, but Madame, wouldn't a more renowned architect be more suited to this project?" Elouise smirked at his queary and shook her head. She was nothing if not original. She would not select a pompous, overrated architect for her masterpiece and Monsieur Renaut showed immense promise in his restorative work to the Notre Dame Cathedral earlier that year.

"I have seen your work, Monsieur, and I have no doubt in my mind that you are the man for this job. I have been told you are an honest man, and a hard worker. Those qualities are all I require of you. Now, I shall arrange for your first month's salary to be brought to you in the morning. Give your address to Jacques and begin your search immediately. Construction _will_ begin before week's end, understood?" For the second time that day a man was left speechless by her tenacity. All Monsieur Renaut could master was a fervent nod before he stood and gave a thankful bow.

"I won't disappoint you, Madame." He answered as he backed from the room.

"Monsieur Renaut?" She called as he was about to leave.

"Yes, Madame?" He turned to her and beheld the icy belle that had pulled him from squalor on a whim. She seemed like something of myth, almost of the fey that were whispered in his homeland. He could finally support his pregnant wife Amelie, his sole purpose in life. Their bellies would be as full as there coffers. This was the godsend he had been praying for.

"I should like to meet your wife. Would you be available for dinner tomorrow evening?" Her face now bore a smile. In an instant he felt an intense loyalty to the lady before him. She had invited them to dinner, a lowly pair of common folk, as though they were contemporaries.

"Yes, Madame. We are at your disposal night or day." He nodded once more before hastily rushing from the room, uttering a string of appreciation as he rushed out.

Elouise smiled to herself and looked to the grandfather clock that stood against the wall in the corner of her room. The maid would be in to light a fire in the hearth soon. Elouise scanned the blueprints before her for the hundredth time, familiarizing herself with every passage, and corridor, imagining how it would be to know the behemoth's inner workings intimately. Emmaline, her mother, had been raised in the ballet troupe, a star in the making, earning principal roles well before her peers. It was in that opera house that her mother found love. Piere, her father, had seen Emmaline, and as he had often told his daughter, was entranced by her dancing. Piere would tell his dear, sweet daughter, how her mother wove a magic spell with her dance, and pull the audience into the world they had created on the stage.

She was a grown woman now, and deep in her heart she envied the adoration with which her father spoke of his lovely ballerina. What would it be like to have a man adore her so?

A pang of regret filled her heart. She had made the mistake of letting her guard down once, never, ever again. Besides, she was no ballerina, she had never bothered to learn her mother's art, much to her own dismay. She had attempted to once, but the sorrow in her father's eyes when he caught her practicing had simply not been worth it.

Her eyes drifted to the photograph of her mother and father, smiling brightly on their wedding day. If she could give her father the sweet reverie of the opera house, the scene of his unlikely romance to a principal ballerina, it would be the sweetest gift she could provide. She gently kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed it to the glass frame.

"Your Opera House will make music again, Maman. I promise you."

Erik slipped through the silent opera house with ease, putting his dreadful moniker into practice. He could not bring himself to compose. It was a barrier he had battered with every once of will he had, but the music would not come to him. His only solace teased at the edges of his sanity, and he had no respite, but to think of the woman who was _not_ Christine.

Why had he not killed her? Why did he not allow himself the carnal release of feeling her delicate life slip through his fingers. He had recalled his lassoo each time and shrunk from the allure of the kill. Was it that she looked to similar to his sweet angel? It plagued him that this woman, this enchantress, was so unlike Christine, but differed so little in her earthly form.

Was it the surety of her step or the precision of her commanding tongue that assuaged him.

Perhaps… perhaps it was the allure of the hunt. A tigress had strolled into his kingdom and laid undeniable claim to it. It was an affront to the absolute rule he had enjoyed over the past five years. She must be tamed, just as he had tamed the previous managers. He would bend her to his will, and she would fight him at every step.

The unfamiliar sensation of excitement rushed through him as he planned his next move. To Erik it was an intricate game of chess, with infinite positions to play. He would prove his legend to her in time, and he would be liege over the opera house once again.

Monsieur Bernard arrived at nine o'clock the next morning with all of the necessary papers and contracts. The Commissioner happily accepted her generous offer. The Opera House had been a blemish on the beautiful city of Paris for far too long. He was happy to be rid of it.

Elouise sifted through the documents as Monsieur Bernard looked on, a sour grimace upon his face. The grandfather clock ticked loudly as moments passed in silence. Each shuffle of a page made Bernard more agitated. There was no lawyer or banker present. The girl intended to handle the contracts entirely by herself. He could hardly believe her foolishness. Could she not see the danger right before her eyes or did she not care?

"Elouise, I implore you once more. Consider your choice carefully. La Opera Populaire has been a curse to any who dared go near it." He urged her, looking both concerned and incensed at once. Elouise merely shook her head.

"You do not know me so well, Monsieur. You would do well to address me with the respect deserving of my rank." Elouise did not bother to look up from the document she was reading. At her admonishment Bernard gave a strangled gasp. "I will purchase La Opera Populaire no matter what you might say." She took her quill from the inkpot and deftly added her signature to the final page. "The funds will be transferred by my banker no later than noon today. I will take the keys now, Monsieur Bernard." She held out her hand to him with a determined gaze.

"As you wish, Madam. I hope you do not live to regret your great folly." Monsieur dropped the hefty keyring into her outstretched hand before reaching into his coat and producing a bit of paper with a few scribbled lines on it. "Perhaps _she_ will be able to talk sense into you." Bernard slapped the paper onto her desk and stood. He snatched the Chancellors copies with a grunt. "Good day, Madame." He did not bow before storming out of the room. She listened as his angry steps receded and heard the faint sound of Jacques bidding him good day.

Elouise took the bit of paper into her hand and read the address upon it before setting it aside.

"Men, always thinking they know what's best." She huffed as she stood from her chair and gathered the blueprints in her hands. She slipped them into a round leather folio, stowed the keys in her dress pocket, and called for Jacques who appeared in moments.

"Yes, Mademoiselle?" Elouise smiled at him before handing him the freshly signed deed.

"Please place this in my deposit box with the bank when you deliver Monsieur Renaut's salary. And please send word to my dressmaker that Madame Renaut will be needing a gown for this evening, escort her there if Monsieur Renaut cannot take her himself, take the fine carriage I will have no need of it and I wish to make an impression. I'm sure you can make similar arrangements for Monsieur Renaut. I will be out for the better part of the day." Jacques nodded.

"Lady Atier has requested that you join her for lunch at La Seine Restaurant. How would you like me to answer her?" Jacques watched as Elouise rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"That nosy old bat can't even wait a day before demanding my company. I'll be indisposed today give her my _sincere_ apologies." Elouise stated as she momentarily fixed her pale pink gown in the mirror. It was simple and utilitarian despite its color. No silks or lace to announce her wealth. As if reading her mind Jacques produced her matching parasol and handed it to her as she smiled warmly at him. The butler grinned despite himself and nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

"I shall inform her that you are distraught by missing the opportunity to join her." He said as he handed her the fine lace gloves she was fond of wearing. She waved the gloves away and walked past him.

"I would be lost without you, Jacques." She said with a smile. "I shall be home by three o'clock." With that she stepped out the door and walked swiftly down the stairs to the lobby.

Once on the street it took mere seconds for her to secure a hansom and be on her way. It had been years since she had traveled with a male escort, and Jacques was the only man she trusted to do the job when the need arose. She settled in her seat and watched as the familiar city rolled by. It was difficult to hide her excitement, and stop herself from fidgeting. She had been planning to purchase and repair La Opera Garnier from the moment she had heard of the great disaster. Elouise had spent five long years amassing funds and influence. Shrewd investments into the American railway system had exploded her already substantial fortune and left her with more money than she could spend. The Society papers called her the "most eligible spinster" due to her enormous wealth and her decided lack of a husband at the age of twenty three. She was sure this had lead to everyone addressing her as "Madame" rather than the more appropriate "Mademoiselle" .

The hansom turned onto la Rue de Scribe causing her breath to catch in her throat. The sight of the sweeping marble staircases leading to the main doors of the opera, now coated in soot, made joy well up inside of her. She had worked hard for this moment, and now she would explore the theatre where her mother spent her childhood. She exited the hansom, ignoring the cabbies offered hand, paid him quickly and started up the grand stairway.

The theatre loomed large on la Rue de Scribe, with no contemporaries that could match its massive stature. Every inch of the buildings face was covered with water stained ornaments and statues.

Once she reached the doors she fumbled with the key ring Monsieur Bernard had given her until she found a key that looked eerily like a human skull. On a hunch she slipped it into the keyhole and nearly uttered a squeal of excitement as the lock gave an ugly groan and the door came loose. She peered into the darkness that greeted her, as though daylight did not dare step foot in the Opera House.

Quietly she slipped inside and pulled the enormous door shut behind her, leaving her in an all consuming darkness. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she began to see shadowy figures, and curving staircases, punctuated by alcoves that led into the theatre. At the stop of the staircase soft light streamed in through the alcoves from the hole in the theatre ceiling, illuminating everything in a ghastly pale light.

Elouise produced a small notebook and pencil from her pocket and began to take notes as she walked. The marble floors would need to be washed and resurfaced, spiders evicted from their familial homes, statues refurbished, draperies ordered. Her head buzzed with the task at hand as she wandered, simply soaking in her surroundings. She made her way up the staircase to the balconies where aristocrats and dignitaries would have taken their seats during performances. As she slipped through the shadowy balconies she was astonished to see that very little had been looted while the opera house lay dormant. Gilded tables and chairs lay scattered, covered in soot. She wiped at one of the tables with her thumb and gasped when a gleaming golden surface was revealed. Some of the furniture was salvageable, and she would do everything she could to keep original pieces.

More than once she turned around, feeling as though she was being watched. She saw nothing but shadows each time, and she scolded herself for succumbing to silly superstition. If there was any danger lurking in the theatre, it would be flesh and blood, not a spectre. Elouise dusted off her skirt and pressed on. She felt the hairs on her arms raise as she neared box five. Would he be there? The phantom? The disfigured man who had killed so many? No. Reports had said that he was found dead in a ditch. She had nothing to fear. With her renewed courage she stepped through into the box and looked around. It was furnished just the same as the other boxes, but to her surprise the furniture stood perfectly as it should have been, with no sign of disarray. The floors in box five were clean, and in the center of the table sat a candle, with the faintest wisp of smoke, drifting from the wick.

Elouise froze. Someone had just been in this box, but how could they have slipped by her? She turned and looked around her, there was nowhere anyone could hide, but they would have had to walk directly past her to escape. She listened closely for any sound, but she could hear nothing more than the pigeons conversing.

Perhaps the phantom was not as deceased as she had been lead to believe. Elouise straightened her spine and looked around her once more.

"I know you are here, Ghost. I've come to undo the damage you have done. I will breathe life into this opera house and I will not allow you to snuff it out!" She yelled, attempting to sound as brave as she could. "I will not attempt to harass, or evict you, so long as you allow my work to proceed unhindered!" Her voice echoed back at her from the great expanse, but no answer came. She stood for a long moment in silence before sighing loudly. _I've finally lost my mind. _She thought ruefully. Reaching into her pocket she withdrew her watch and looked at the time. There were still several more hours left to explore the opera house. _Perhaps it is foolish to wander alone. _

Someone _had_ been in box five, and she had no idea whether they meant her harm. Now every inch of her skin was alive with the sensation of being stalked. Cautiously she resolved herself to exploring a bit further. She would not be chased from her opera house by a wisp of smoke.

Slowly she explored the remaining boxes, finding nothing that would suggest anyone had been there. With each destroyed box she explored, the cleanliness of box five became more ominous. A shiver went down her spine and she decided it would be best to leave the opera house and return later with Jacques.

It seemed she would be having lunch with Lady Atier after all.

His little clue had unnerved her. How delectable. Erik watched from the shadows, just outside box five, having slipped through a secret passage in the wall. He was close enough to see her stiffen when she noticed his prop. A wicked grin spread across his face as she looked about herself. He did not expect her next move.

"I know you are here ghost!" Erik listened as she challenged him, no, commanded him to behave. The fury slowly boiled up in his veins as she brazenly shouted her intent into the silence of the theatre. Her voice wavered but once. _She_ would permit _him_ to remain?

_Quite the opposite my dear!_ Erik waited before she scurried past him, never noticing his presence, before snarling angrily. Soon she would see. He would see to it that she learned her wretched place.

Madame Atier was a wealthy widow who had a passion for food, and men twenty years too young for her. The large woman sat across from Elouise. A boy no older than twenty held a parasol above her to shade her from the midday sun as she gorged herself. Elouise had always been astounded by Madame Atier's ability to eat and gossip at the same time.

"You know I only want the best for you dear, and with your father ailing it is paramount that you find a suitable husband!" Atier stuffed another bit of roast duck into her mouth and shook her head. "You don't want to end up a lonely old woman like me!"

Elouise' father had been convalescing in Greece for the better part of the year. The doctors said the warm sea air would heal his lungs, but on her last visit he had seemed so frail. She could not imagine a world without her papa. Elouise grimaced and shook her head. She would be damned if she had built her fortune only to hand it over to a man. That was all men wanted anyway.

"I promise you, Esme, I am quite satisfied to keep my own company." Elouise had hardly touched her own food. Watching the older woman eat had ruined her appetite.

"What about that young Viscommte? The one with those lovely green eyes and a roguish look!" Atier pointed her fork and its contents at Elouise. "Viscommte Chateaubriand! That is the one!"

Elouise shook her head. She had seen The Viscommte in a drunken stupor at far to many balls for her to even consider it.

"He is a drunkard. I could hardly be bothered. Besides, I won't have him gambling away my fortune all across France." Elouise took a sip of her champagne and looked out over the river Seine. She adored the way the light sparkled on the water. Her mind once again drifted to the candle in box number five. It raised far too many questions, and truth be told, it deeply intrigued her.

"Bah! Your father has spoiled you. I think you're much too picky. I'd marry that boy in an instant. It is such a good thing that I have my sweet Fabien to keep me company." Atier ran her hand down the young man's arm and leered at him momentarily. He returned her apriasle with a cocky grin that turned Ella's stomach.

"It is a moot point, Esme. I have not had any suitors in quite some time. I'm the most eligible spinster in Paris haven't you heard? Besides, I will be far too busy with the opera house to even consider courtship." She took a dainty bite of the salad she had ordered in an attempt to feed herself. Elouise suddenly regretted not eating supper the night before. The raucous coughing fit that followed startled her as Madame Atier choked on a piece of her roast duck.

"Tell me you aren't serious, Elouise!" Madame Atier sputtered as she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

"I'm not one to joke about business, Esme. I've purchased La Opera Populaire and construction is set to begin before the end of the week. I'm having dinner with my foreman and his wife this evening to discuss plans." Elouise took another sip of her champagne.

"Haven't you heard?" Madame Atier gasped. "Do you wish to court an early grave?" Elouise had to prevent herself from rolling her eyes.

"If the so called _opera ghost_ wanted to do me harm he had a perfect opportunity to do so just this morning while I surveyed the building. There is nothing to be afraid of, Esme." Elouise smiled and took another bite of her salad before Madame Atier resumed eating.

"You frighten me, Elouise. You are to fearless for your own good. A lady your age should be raising children, not traipsing through abandoned theatres!" Lady Atier hissed at her so that other tables would not overhear. "It is unlady like." She finished resolutely. Elouise felt her stomach turn at the mention of children, and her heart felt as though it had been seized in an icy grip.

"We saw how well that turned out once before, Esme." Elouise whispered as she stood and collected her things. Lady Atier realized her folly too late and gaped, unable to summon the proper apology.

"Good day." Elouise murmured as she turned and left the restaurant, looking for all the world like a ghost, wandering through purgatory.

_Elouise sat in her room, fussing over her appearance. She could hardly contain herself as she adjusted the sparkling sapphire pins that were interspersed in her dark curls. Her maid, Maude, had set her hair in a wild, cascading twist atop the back of her head, and was busy straightening Elouise' gown. The blue satin and tulle gown matched the soft shade of her eyes and, although it had a modest neckline, it flattered her feminine curves. _

"_You look stunning,Ella!" Maude exclaimed as she gave Elouise' cheeks a gentle pat. The plump woman had been in charge of Ella's feminine education, and to see the sweet little girl she had taught to curtsy become a glowing young woman made her as proud as any mother._

"_Do you think someone will ask me to dance?" Ella asked coily as she examined the faint rouge she wore in the mirror. _

"_My dear they will ALL ask you to dance! You will have sore toes for a week!" Maude took a final, prideful look at her ward and gave a little squeal. "You look like an angel straight from heaven!" With that the matronly woman took Ella's hands and pulled her up from her stool. The girl, a mere fifteen years old smiled sweetly and did a turn for maude to inspect her. She was only just blossoming into womanhood, with subtle curves foreshadowing the beautiful woman she would become. If all went well, she would find a suitable husband to father her children, but Maude could not help but feel trepidation. She could not bare to see her little angel domesticated. With teary eyes she smiled and nodded. _

"_It's time, Ma Petite! Remember to stand straight, and step lightly. Show them your mother's grace and startle them with your father's tenacity!" Maude whispered conspiratorially as she led Ella out of her room and down the hallway to the foyer. The sound of music drifted from the main hall and suddenly Ella felt gripped by nerves. Her debutante ball awaited her, and everyone would be looking at her. How had her mother danced before enormous crowds of admirers when Ella could barely muster the strength to enter a room of acquaintances? _

_Maude gave Ella's hand a final squeeze before pushing her gently towards the doors._

_The music came to a graceful end just as Elouise entered the main hall. The silence did her no favors. The polite chatter quieted and the room went deathly still. It felt as though everyone could hear her swallow nervously before she found her father's proud gaze beaming back at her from the crowd. The light in his blue eyes filled her with confidence enough to give the crowd a dazzling smile and curtsy low. _

"_Ladies and Gentleman, I present to you my daughter Elouise Marie Thomas!" Piere announced with pride as he joined his daughter to lead her in her first dance. _

_Piere's' heart swelled with pride as he led Ella around the dancefloor. She had been born with her father's eyes and dark hair, but she was every bit the spitting image of her mother. _

"_Your mother would be very proud, Ma Petite Cherie." He told her as he spun her around and once again moved into a lilting waltz._

"_Thank you, Papa." Ella beamed as her nerves slowly vanished. Her papa had always been the steady force in her life. He was an unflappable handsome man, who was as formidable in his business dealings as he was doting on his only child._

"_Many young men have attended tonight. Keep them on their toes, my dear!" He encouraged as he released her to the first young gentleman who was brave enough to interject and ask for a dance._

_Ella could hardly catch her breath as she danced every dance that night, each one with a different gentleman. She had never received such attention in her life and though she enjoyed herself she felt utterly overwhelmed. Near the end of the evening she stood to the side, her first glass of champagne clutched in her pale hands. From the corner of her eye she noticed a man coming towards her, and she began to worry her fingers. She did not know if she could stand another dance. _

"_Bonjour, Mademoiselle Thomas." He took her hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. A dozen men had done so that night, but the way his green eyes glittered as he looked at her made her stomach drop in a way she had never felt before._

"_B-bonjour, Monsieur." She stammered, as she attempted to regain her composure. _

"_My name is Viscount Chapeu. It would be a great honour if you would allow me to bask in your radiant company for a few moments." He spoke almost in a purr, her hand still held gently in his. He stroked her knuckles with his fingers as he gazed at her. He was older than the other men who had attended the ball; taller, and broad shouldered. He was dressed fashionably in a black waistcoat and green cravat. _

"_If it pleases you, Viscommte." She answered with a growing blush across her cheeks. _

"_It would please me very much, Mademoiselle." A catlike grin spread across his face. "And please, call me Jean-Luc." _

Elouise frowned at her reflection in the mirror. She was getting older. She could see it in the curve of her lips and her high cheekbones that were beginning to define themselves. She had the look of a french beauty with large wide set eyes, a delicate nose, and luscious lips.

Beauty had only ever brought her pain. There were days she wished nothing more than to be a man. No one would speak down to her, or question her judgement, but there was no use in sulking. She had to abolish the sour mood that had fallen over her after her lunch with Madame Atier. It wouldn't do to be miserable for her dinner with Monsieur and Madame Renaut. As if practicing she smiled at herself in the mirror and sat taller. It would simply have to do.

With a sigh she stood from her vanity and smoothed the wrinkles on her skirt. The dusty pink dress was simple but elegant with an empire waist that was reminiscent of older fashion styles and subtle roses stitched into the skirt in dark pink thread. She could care less that the cut of her dress was old fashioned. Her usual twist of wild curls had been tamed and pulled into a coil of braids on the back of her head, and it tugged uncomfortably at her scalp.

A final glance in the mirror told her she appeared suitable for a fine dinner and sent her on her way. Jacques was waiting in the sitting room with a bundle of letters and a smile.

"A letter from your father arrived just after you returned. There are also several invitations, and a report from Monsieur Dunning in Edinburgh." He explained as he handed the bundle directly to her. Elouise had long since done away with the nonsensical presentation of items on silver platters. She flipped through the envelopes before returning them to him.

"Thank you, Jacques. I shall read them after dinner this evening. Have the Renauts arrived?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle. They have just been seated." He informed as he followed her to the door of the suite and opened it for her.

"Perfect. I suppose I can't keep them waiting." She made to leave but a gentle, white gloved hand on her arm gave her pause.

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle, but I can tell something is troubling you." Jacques bore a look of fatherly concern. He had been her father's hired man for over thirty years, and had become her butler when she came of an age to require one. Jacques had seen her grow from a wild haired young girl into the woman she is today, and he acquired an impeccable sense of her moods over these many years. Jacques, in spite of the vast disparity in their rank, was nothing short of a second father to her.

Elouise smiled fondly and patted his gloved hand. "I am alright, Jacques. I'm only feeling a bit under the weather. I'll be fine." She squeezed his hand to reassure him and he withdrew, returning to his posture of propriety.

"Very well, Mademoiselle. I shall await your return. Is there anything else I can do for you while you are at dinner?" He asked with the faintest quirk of his moustache that told Elouise he was not convinced.

"No thank you, Jacques. Please take some time to relax while I am gone. Perhaps read some of those silly poems you are so fond of." Elouise gave him a genuine smile before turning and exiting the suite.

Monsieur and Madame Renaut sat nervously at the best table in the hotel restaurant, tucked away from prying eyes in an alcove.

"Francois, look at the table cloth! It is so white!" The young Madame Renaut was glowing with excitement. She wore a pale green dress, one that had been fitted for her just that morning, along with an entire set of matching unmentionables. Marie Renaut was in the full blossom of youth, with rosy cheeks and fair blonde curls that hung in ringlets on her bare shoulders. "I feel as though we have stepped into a fairytale!"

Francois grinned happily at his young wife. He wore a smart new suite that was trimmed in black satin and a pale green vest that matched his wife's gown. If Francois were to be honest he was quite uncomfortable surrounded by all of these luxuries. He was a simple man who enjoyed the simple pleasures in life. A full pipe of tobacco and a fresh roast prepared by his wife was all he needed. He could not help but feel elated, however, by Marie's excitement.

"It is no less than you deserve, Darling." He cooed as he squeezed her hand beneath the table. "If all goes well, we will have a fine new house in the country for our little ones to grow in." He placed a gentle kiss on his wife's cheek. They had been married a mere eight months and already Marie was expecting. She had not yet begun to swell with his child, but in a few short months they would be doting parents.

"I apologize for making you wait." Elouise said as she reached the table. She had obviously interrupted a tender moment and felt a bit bad for the looks of surprise on their faces. Before Monsieur Renaut could even rise from his seat, his wife was up and grabbing Elouise' hands.

"Madame please do not apologize!" Marie exclaimed, a broad grin on her face. "We would wait all night if only for the chance to thank you!" Elouise smiled kindly at the young girl who had taken her hands and was practically shaking with excitement.

"I would never be so cruel." Elouise said with a laugh. "Have they not brought you Champagne?" She looked at the table seeing nothing but empty glasses.

"We have only just arrived, Madame." Francois informed as he stood from his seat and pulled out a chair for Elouise. She took the seat with a smile. He pulled out a chair for his wife just next to Elouise where she had been sitting before and finally took his own seat.

"Please, Monsieur, call me Ella." She said with a smile. "What is your name dear?" She asked the younger woman.

"My name is Marie, Ma- Ella." A giggle escaped the girl's mouth. She could hardly believe she was on a first name basis with the finest lady in all of Paris!

"You did not tell me your wife was an angel." Ella teased with a good-natured smile to Francois. "That dress looks beautiful on you, Marie. Madame Pinot most certainly worked her magic today." Ella watched as the girl turned crimson, the broad smile never leaving her face.

"Thank you so much, Ella!" She exclaimed. "I never dreamed I would own a dress as fine as this, let alone six of them. You are far too generous!" Once again the girl had grabbed one of Ella's hansd to squeeze. Ellouise decided she was already very fond of the young Madame Renaut.

"Say nothing of it, Marie. I intend to see to it that Francois spoils you." Ellouise gave a happy smile, her mood already considerably lifted but the exuberance Marie displayed.

"I will follow your instructions to the letter." Francois gave a jovial laugh as a waiter appeared with a bottle of champagne and a bucket of ice on a trolley.

"Good evening, Monsieur and Madame. Madame Thomas, I have brought your favorite, and the chef is preparing something special for you and your guests. Is there any need I can fulfill?" The tall man was in his mid twenties and had quickly risen to the esteemed place of head waiter. He began deftly filling their Champagne flutes, gripping the bottle from the bottom and pouring with honed precision.

"No, Franc, we will be fine for now." Ella said with a smile and turned back to Francois and Marie. The younger woman was looking at the golden bubbling liquid in her glass curiously.

"This is Champagne, my dear." Francois explained. "It will tickle your mouth when you drink it." He added as she raised the glass cautiously to her lips. Once she swallowed she smiled sheepishly, clearly pleased with it. Elouise took a small sip of her own champagne and turned to Francois.

"Now, Francois, I would like to discuss a bit of business before we begin our meal. Have you been able to acquire any workers?" She watched as the gentle eyed man became serious and nodded.

"I have a few men, and I will have a good number more before week's end. I hope to contract as many as eighty men. If you will allow me, I would like to survey the building so that I can begin making sketches and planning." His hands punctuated his words as he spoke in a quaint way.

"Absolutely, I intend to return to the building tomorrow with Jacques, you are welcome to accompany us. The first step will be to clean the building, remove whatever is too damaged to be salvaged, and arrange for what remains to be restored." She glanced at Marie, who seemed to be entranced in the conversation. "Did you face much concern when you spoke to the workers?" She asked, returning her gaze to Francois.

Marie could hardly believe that she was allowed to listen to their business plans. She was amazed by the confidence with which Ella spoke, and her clear grasp of what needed to be done. Most women were forbidden such input or control.

"They are afraid of the phantom making a reappearance, but as I have said, the promise of a full belly during times such as these will practically sign their contract for them." Francois was a shrewd businessman, even if he had been given little chance to display it in his life. He had the rare capability of assessing a situation from all angles.

Elloiuse nodded and took another sip of champagne. "I will have Jacques arrange for food to be provided to the men twice a day. I will not have hungry men rebuild my theatre… You can also assure them that the phantom will not disturb their work. If there is a phantom at all, he and I have come to a sort of understanding." Ella watched as Francois donned a look of confusion.

"I made my intentions clear. He did not voice a complaint." She stated simply. "Now, enough of superstitious nonsense, I would like to learn more about you." Ella turned to Marie and smiled. "Tell me Marie, what are your interests?"

Marie's eyes widened as she realized she suddenly became the center of attention. "Interests my lady?" She stammered.

"Yes, what do you like to do?" Ella clarified.

"I er… I clean the house while Francois is working, and purchase groceries from the market for his dinner… I darn his socks and repair his clothing when it is needed." Marie felt utterly lackluster. The way Ella's brows pressed slightly together made her feel even more disappointing to the luxurious woman.

"Marie, tell me darling, can you read?" Ella asked gently, and her fears were confirmed when the nervous young girl shook her head. "That simply won't do." Ella said with a smile. "I shall teach you. You shall have to fill your time somehow now that you are a wealthy young woman. There will be no need to darn socks or shop for groceries any longer, and I would enjoy nothing more than introducing you to my favorite books." Ella watched as Marie's nervous look became a grin so wide it might have split her cheeks.

"You would do that for me, Ella? I am not smart, I might frustrate you!" Marie, Ella realized, possessed the same affinity for modesty, and honesty, as her husband.

"Nonsense, it's my honour to help advance your education. I take a few hours each evening to conduct business. I will give you lessons then, and you can learn to help me by taking notes." Ella gave Marie a genuine smile, and took her turn at squeezing the young girls hands.

"Oh thank you, Ella! I can hardly wait. I promise I will work very hard! You will not regret your offer." Marie was absolutely beaming as a waiter arrived and placed a plate of horderves in front of each of them. The state of women's education was an affront to Ella's conscience. She would have to speak to Jacques about arranging a way to combat illiteracy among common women. Ella turned to Francois and grinned at the proud smile he bore as he gazed at his young wife. A pang of sorrow stabbed at Ella's heart but she quickly pushed the feeling into the back of her mind. Ella daintily took a bite of the honey crusted beef tart tar that had been set before them, signalling for Francois and Marie to help themselves.

"We will meet tomorrow at noon in front of La Opera Garnier. It will take several hours to survey the entire building, and there will be many matters to discuss. I suggest you hire an assistant, Francois, you are about to become a very busy man." Ella suggested. Francois nodded, serious once more.

"I look forward to it, Madame." He answered with a nod.

The rest of the dinner went pleasantly. Ella and Marie very quickly built a rapport and by the end of the evening Marie was even comfortable with Ella's playful teasing. Ellouise did not have many friends, and she felt optimistic that she and Marie would get on very well.

She retired from the dinner before dessert, on the basis of a long day and an anticipated early morning. Francois and Marie were given her carriage for their return home and bid her goodnight with broad smiles. She returned to her room feeling considerably better than when she left it.

As Ella removed her gown and corset she thought once more about the wisp of smoke in box number five. She puzzled over her little mystery as she brushed her long dark curls. How could anyone have slipped past her? There must have been a way. Her logical mind rejected the notion of the supernatural entirely. The smoke had been a message; The phantom remained in la Opera Garnier, and he wanted her to know it. It had been an eerie, subtle introduction, concocted with no small amount of finesse.

Who was this man that could possess such subtlety that he was lauded as a ghost, but such explosive anger that he had brought the theatre to ruin? If the rumors were to be believed, it had all begun as an obsession with a young ballerina. The story changed with each telling, but the consensus was that his passions had not been returned. It was a ridiculous and fantastical story all at once. She wondered in her secret heart what it must be like to be so adored, that a man would lay waist to his domain in grief at one's refusal. She pushed the thought aside and set her brush down on the vanity as she rose. She strode to her bedside, in nothing but her chemise and took up the pile of letters that Jacques had left on her nightstand. She sat on her bed and opened her father's letter first.

_My dearest Ella,_

_It has been less than a month since your last visit and already I miss your warm smiles. The doctors here provide such dull conversation that I even miss your sharp tongue! What a thought eh? The flowers are in bloom here. There are a few curious little blossoms that I think you would like. They are not unlike a cornflower, but their petals are far more vibrant. I wish I had more interesting news but the doctors tell me that excitement is bad for my health. Can you imagine? I would love to hear your thoughts on the matter! How is the business fairing in my absence? I am sure you are managing it better than I ever have, but if I do not have something to think about I shall go mad! I hope you are well. Maude misses you dearly. She asked me to tell you so. _

_All of my love,_

_Papa_

Elouise smiled as she read her father's letter and laughed more than once. She set her father's letter on her nightstand and examined the three invitations. One was for a debutante ball for Countess De Remier's daughter, another to welcome home the Viscommte de Chagny and his wife from a year abroad, the last, however, was curious. It was a black envelope sealed with a crimson red blot of wax. She opened the envelope and withdrew a small red card.

_Madame Thomas,_

_I would like to formally invite you to meet me tomorrow afternoon. We must discuss your terms. I have had enough time to think them over, and I have a few demands of my own. You will find me in box five. Come alone._

_Yours Truly,_

_O.G._

The hair on Ellouise' arms stood on end as she read the black letters scrawled across the card. He had been there, listening to her shout her demands. The realization of the danger she put herself in sank to the bottom of her stomach. She had been within shouting distance of a murderer. Why had he not simply killed her? The question rattled around in her brain as she tried to calm her pounding heart. Of all of the scenarios she had toyed with in her mind this had not been one of them.

Of course she would go, no matter how the thought filled her with trepidation. His invitation, if anything, was bizarrely polite. He wished to discuss her terms. Could they come to some form of agreement? The fact remained that this man could be a danger to her progress, let alone the lives of her workmen. If she was to rebuild her mother's opera house, she would need the blessing of its ghost.


End file.
